


i feel it in my bones

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 23:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: Miller's been afraid of soulmates for as long as he can remember. It's why he introduces himself as Miller rather than give strangers his first name, after all. Because if he was to hear it, his name in his soulmate's mouth, then he would know. And that would be terrifying.





	i feel it in my bones

**Author's Note:**

> sort of inspired by one of Lana's (maraudersgroupie) fics, kind of got long and out of hand. enjoy!

Miller made it a habit to never tell anyone his first name until he was _sure_. It was petty and annoying, he knew that. But it was safe. It was infinitely safer for everyone to call him _Miller_ than it was to give them the power of _Nathan_. He’d learned that young.

Names had power these days, but only if they were spoken by the right people.

It was also why Miller made it a habit to never say anyone else’s name.

Soulmates could be great, he knew that, but they could also be trouble. He knew people who would test everyone’s name in their mouth when they first met, repeating it back to them as though _searching_. He knew people who refused relationships of any sort unless they were _the one_.

He just wanted to fall in love. He didn’t need it to be his soulmate (and part of him didn’t _want_ it to be his soulmate, after seeing how worked up the world got around them). He just wanted a man who cared for him. If said man turned out to be his soulmate, so be it, but that wasn’t a qualification for a relationship.

It was all in the name. He could see it when Bellamy spoke, “Clarke,” and a soft breath would escape her while her eyes lit up. He could see it when Clarke returned his name, a quiet, “ _Bellamy_ ,” and electricity would shoot down his spine and a smile could be found on his face. They could feel it. They couldn’t describe it, either. Sometimes people would call it magic, others would liken it to sunshine. Just saying their name wasn’t enough, not if they were in a different room or out of earshot. That didn’t matter. You had to hear it. And _hearing_ your name on your soulmate’s lips--even over the phone--you would _know_.

Soon everyone was calling him Miller, and Miller didn’t mind. Last names weren’t part of the soulmate deal, only first names, so he was never worried he was just going to be thrown off all of a sudden.

“I just don’t understand,” Bellamy said one day. They were in their apartment, Clarke sprawled out across his lap as he twisted his fingers through her hair while Miller sat in a nearby chair with a book in his hands. “Don’t you want to find your soulmate?”

“It’s just always the default,” Miller muttered. “I don’t want to be constantly _looking_ like everyone else is,” he said. “I’ve dated people who weren’t my soulmates, people I could’ve lived long and happy lives with. Okay? It’s just not that important to me.”

Bellamy’s mouth quirked to the side. He’d never be able to understand, Miller thought, because he’d _found_ his soulmate. He had Clarke, and Clarke had him, and anyone who spent more than two minutes around them knew that the universe had chosen well.

“Sure you’re not just afraid?” Bellamy asked.

“What’s there to be afraid of?” Miller shot back.

* * *

“Miller!” Clarke called out.

He was sitting at the bar, shamelessly flirting with the bartender, when Clarke descended on him. He wheeled around in his seat to find her with her arm slung around a guy with the most heart-warming smile Miller had seen in a long time. It was languid, like maybe he was already drunk, and he had dimples. Miller had a thing for guys with dimples.

“Hey Clarke,” Miller said carefully.

“This is my friend Monty,” she said, pushing him forward. “We went to grad school together.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember Clarke mentioning you.” He extended his hand to Monty who reached forward to shake it with his own hand that was drink free. “I’m Miller.”

“Yeah, that is how Clarke just addressed you,” Monty said with a smile. “I’m Monty.”

Maybe Miller wasn’t always echoing names back to people, but he certainly kept an eye on the people who avoided that as well. Even though Miller was his last name, if someone would repeat it back to him he tended to avoid them afterwards. To him it felt like they were trying to figure something out, and typically they’d move on afterwards if Miller didn’t shiver or whatever the fuck it was that hearing your own name in someone else’s mouth did to you.

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

“Clarke says you two grew up together?” Monty asked.

“Next door neighbors,” Clarke said with a grin. “Used to sneak out together and drink stolen rum on our rooftops.”

“Was the rum stolen from the store, or from your parents?”

“Both,” Clarke and Miller answered at the same time. That made Monty laugh, and Monty had a nice laugh. “You live around here?” Miller asked.

“Just moved into the city, actually,” Monty said.

“So we’ll be seeing more of him,” Clarke said. “Which is good. Because you have three friends, and you need more friends.”

“I have more than three friends,” Miller said.

“Name them.”

He huffed. “You. Bellamy. Wells. Raven.”

“Wow,” Clarke said, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Four friends. My mistake.” Miller rolled his eyes, but he’d had a lot of vodka so at least he was smiling.

“It’s okay,” Monty said. “I only have one. Which is Clarke. So I’m kind of in need of some friends too.” Monty lifted his cup for a drink. “My best friend--Jasper? It’s going to take him a while to move out. Has to end some stuff at work. So I’m lonely on all fronts.”

Bellamy arrived then, sliding his arms around Clarke’s waist and propping his chin up on her shoulder. “Welcome to the crew then, Monty,” he said warmly.

Monty grinned. “Happy to be here.”

* * *

When Clarke flopped down on the couch beside Miller the next day, entirely too close for comfort, his mouth twitched into a frown. Clarke only got this close when she wanted to talk about things. Miller didn’t like to talk about things.

“So,” she said.

Miller kept his eyes trained on the television. It was a rerun of some old sitcom he used to watch, so he wasn’t paying loads of attention. But.

“So,” he echoed.

“Monty’s cool, huh?”

Miller glanced over at her. “Do you need my approval to have friends, now?” he asked. She rolled her eyes and Miller focused his attention back on the TV. “Sure. We talked for like, five minutes. But he’s cool.”

“Cute, too.”

Miller let out a long breath. “Sure.”

“Sure? He has dimples.”

“Oh fuck you,” Miller muttered, unable to fight the small laugh that crawled out of him. “Yeah, he’s cute,” Miller said. “So what?” Clarke beamed, and Miller shook his head at her. “I’m not looking for anything right now,” he said. “So you can quit playing matchmaker, Griffin.”

“It’s been nearly a year,” she said.

He turned, narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m not looking for anything right now,” he echoed, a bit more bite to his voice than the first time. But the two of them had grown up together, so any sort of bite wasn’t enough to make Clarke waiver. She just held his gaze, steady. “ _Bellamy_ ,” Miller called. “Your girlfriend’s pissing me off again.”

“Hey, she was your friend before she was my girlfriend,” Bellamy called back from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner. “Your problem, not mine.”

Miller huffed, and Clarke’s smile grew.

He was a fool to think that she’d dropped it because two days later when Miller showed up to grab coffee on his lunch break with Clarke, Monty was there too. There was something in her eyes that looked victorious, and Miller wondered if he could dislike Monty out of spite alone.

The answer was no. Monty was impossible to dislike.

He had a dual degree in computer engineering and microelectronic engineering and a way of speaking about both of them that made Miller feel like he understood what it was he did despite really having no idea what his job was, and he had a laugh that had Miller smiling into his coffee cup.

When Clarke excused herself to the bathroom Monty ran his hand through his hair, messing it up in a brilliantly adorable way that kept Miller’s smile on his face.

“Your reaction upon seeing me when you walked in leads me to believe Clarke didn’t tell you I’d be here,” Monty said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Clarke really was out of earshot.

“She hadn’t, no, but I don’t mind.”

“She did the same thing with Raven the other day when we went out for drinks,” Monty carried on. “I think she’s slowly trying to integrate me into the friend group.” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Then she leaves for long stretches of time, forcing me to socialize, and, well…” he trailed off as Miller laughed.

“I’ve known Clarke since we were kids,” Miller told him. “And that is, 100% guaranteed, what she’s doing.”

Monty laughed, too, and again Miller felt it in his chest. He hadn’t been lying to Clarke when he said he wasn’t looking for anything right now, but one damn conversation with this man had him wishing that he was.

“I’m happy she’s taking me under her wing. I was pretty sure I was going to be a friendless nerd and just play like, various online games alone for the rest of my life. Besides, you all seem really great.”

“High praise,” Miller said. “But--listen. Let me give you my number,” he said. “So we can be friends without Clarke lingering.”

Monty’s face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Sure,” Miller said with a nod.

* * *

**From Monty  
** how am i supposed to choose between  
two perfect options? they’re both the  
best ever and making me choose is  
inhumane

 **From Miller** **  
**I had no idea asking if you preferred  
tacos or pizza was this big of a deal.

 **From Monty** **  
** oh come on! there are so many options!

Miller smiled, tapping out his response, as Raven settled onto the couch nearby. She was hanging out until Wells and Clarke and Bellamy got out of their movie, something she and Miller hadn’t been interested in, and decided that wine and a documentary about unsolved murders was a better option.

“What’s with the shit-iot smile?” she asked.

Miller glanced over at her as she sipped from her glass. “Shit-iot?” he asked.

“Shitty idiot,” Raven elaborated. “Who’re you texting?”

 **From Miller** **  
**If you choose pizza though you  
can probably have taco pizza which  
is a good middle ground

 **From Monty** **  
** oh my god you’re totally right

“Monty,” Miller answered. Raven’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “My coffee with Clarke the other day was actually coffee with Clarke and Monty. He told me she did the same thing with you.”

“Yeah, Monty’s fun,” she said. “Also super your type, by the way.”

“Don’t,” Miller warned. “He’s new. He needs more friends. Hence, me being friendly.”

Raven scoffed, but it was mostly a laugh. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” She sipped some wine again. “What’re you talking about?”

“Uhh…” Miller finished his text. “We’re playing this or that,” he said.

“This or that,” Raven echoed.

“Like--pizza or tacos.”

“Pizza,” Raven answered, “because you can get taco pizza.”

Miller grinned. “That’s what I said,” he said. “We’re just getting to know each other, I guess. So Clarke isn’t his only friend.”

“Then invite him over,” Raven said, gesturing. “He can hang with us until they get back. Then we can all order taco pizza, or whatever.”

Miller considered it before pulling up his phone again.

 **From Miller** **  
**Want to come hang with me and Raven  
for a bit? Everyone else is at the movies.  
We’re drinking wine and watching some  
documentary about some cult on Netflix.

 **From Monty** **  
**wow an official non-clarke invite this is  
real progress in our friendship

“Your dumbass smile’s back,” Raven said.

 **From Miller** **  
**Clarke’ll be here eventually. But this  
time we’ll be surprising her instead  
of her surprising us.

 **From Monty** **  
** into it. be there in fifteen!

Miller lowered his phone and looked up at Raven, making an effort to hide his smile this time. “Don’t say anything,” he muttered to his friend. “To him. Or Clarke.”

“What, that you’re _super_ into him?”

“I’m not super _anything_ ,” Miller shushed her. “I’m not--I haven’t had a serious _anything_ since--well. Fuck. You know.”

“Yeah.”

“And I can’t very well fuck around with one of Clarke’s best friends. Especially if he’s going to be sticking around, you know?”

“Well why can’t it turn into a serious thing?” Raven asked. “I mean if you actually like the guy, then--” Miller sighed, cutting her off. Raven was better to talk to about this than was Bellamy or Clarke, as they were always pushing and prying and Raven moreorless _understood_. But he still didn’t like talking about it. They’d both been hurt before because of soulmates, because of how the universe worked, and Raven knew Miller was hesitant to start things with anyone. “I’m just saying,” Raven said slowly, “that if you like him, maybe you shouldn’t pretend like you don’t. Yeah?”

Miller dropped his gaze. “I’m just not in any hurry,” he muttered.

“It could be really good,” Raven said sincerely. Her form of sincerity felt more genuine than Clarke’s, at times, who wanted to make sure everyone was happy all the time right away. Raven was just looking out. “If you let it be.”

“Yeah,” Miller agreed. “Maybe.”

* * *

Monty arrived a bit later, disheveled from the wind, smiling so widely Miller feared his face would split in half.

Raven was right, Miller realized after Monty settled onto the couch with his own glass of wine. That he shouldn’t pretend to dislike Monty, that things might have been blossoming between them. That maybe something could be really good.

The more Monty laughed, the more the three of them eased down onto the couch and their cheeks turned pink from alcohol, the more Miller _wanted_ this. Something steady. Something with Monty.

When Wells and Bellamy and Clarke all arrived, it appeared that Clarke’s ultimate goal had been accomplished. That Monty had been integrated seamlessly into their friend group. It wasn’t strange to anyone to see him there, no one had to go out of their way to include him in conversations. He was just one of them.

He also kept looking at Miller, his eyes lingering and his mouth curved in the smallest smile.

But to have noticed that, Miller had to have been watching him as well. So he definitely noticed when Clarke and Monty disappeared into the kitchen together, the sound of Clarke’s loud, fake gasp, and then quiet laughter shared between the two of them. _Suspicious._

Miller also noticed when Monty switched to water but chose not to say anything. Another hour passed before Monty stood, murmuring something about work, as Wells tried to rouse Raven so he could take her back to their apartment as well instead of leaving her to sleep on the couch.

While everyone was distracted Miller pushed himself from the couch as well, following after Monty as he walked away.

“You’re good to drive?” Miller asked, walking with him to the door. “I know you didn’t have a lot, but.”

“No, yeah,” Monty said with a nod. “I’m good. Swear it.” He took a step closer to Miller. “I’ll text you when I get home? Just to be safe.”

“Yeah. I was going to ask, actually.”

Monty arched an eyebrow. “Me to text you?”

“When you got home safe,” Miller said with a nod, and again, Monty was nodding too. “I definitely trust your judgement though,” he went on. “You seem like--brilliant and smart and all that. So.” Miller swallowed. “Yeah, if you say you’re good to drive I trust you. You don’t have to text if you don’t want to.”

“What if I want to?” Monty asked. “Would that be okay too?” Monty held his gaze and something warm settled in Miller’s chest. He tipped his head forward into yet another nod. “Cool.” There was a pause between them but it felt comfortable, familiar. “Thanks for inviting me,” Monty said gently. There was a smile on his face, soft and shy. “I really appreciate it.”

Miller shrugged, finding a smile of his own. “Well I really like getting to know you,” he told him. “I’m sure everyone else does, too.”

Monty’s smile grew. “I really like getting to know you, too,” he said, not mentioning the _everyone else_ . Laughter filtered in from the living room and Monty stepped closer. “Clarke said you’re not, um. Really looking for anything,” Monty said, and Miller’s heart picked up speed in an instant. This meant a million things at once. That Monty had asked about him. That Monty was _interested_. “But would you want to get drinks? Tomorrow?”

Miller swallowed. “Just us?”

“If you wanted,” Monty said, his voice dropping.

Miller couldn’t stop the smile that filled his face. “I’d like that.”

* * *

Miller decided not to tell Bellamy.

If he told Bellamy, Bellamy would tell Clarke. And Clarke would tease him relentlessly. Miller only hoped Monty had enough sense to _also_ not tell Clarke. Not yet.

He did, however, tell Raven.

 **From Miller** **  
** Monty and I are getting drinks tonight.

 **From Raven** **  
** cool. guessing you don’t want Clarke knowing?

 **From Miller** **  
** Not yet

 **From Raven** **  
**Monty’s great, I approve 100%. try to have  
a good time and not freak out?

 **From Miller** **  
** Will do

Miller fiddled with his phone and let out a short breath, wondering when Monty would arrive and annoyed that he was _nervous_. It wasn’t a date, really. Just drinks. And friends could get drinks together. Bellamy and Miller used to get drinks together all the _time_ before they realized how expensive it was and decided they had to be more adult-like and buy by the bottle instead and stay home. Drinks were totally platonic, not romantic at all.

“Hey!”

Except the flip in Miller’s chest when Monty arrived, yeah. That was definitely not platonic.

“Hey,” Miller greeted with a smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” Monty said as he hurried onto the seat beside him. “Still new. Got a little lost.”

“Don’t worry about it. Long day?”

“Ugh, God, like you wouldn’t believe,” Monty muttered, waving the bartender over, and then they were off.

There was never a lull in the conversation.

The two of them talked about work and they talked about their families and they talked about everything that came to mind. Favorite books, favorite shows, favorite movies. They got a little carried away when they started talking about Rogue One and soon enough, the bartender had to interrupt them.

“Our restaurant side of the bar is closing,” she said softly, a knowing smile on her face. “If you’d like to stay you could move to our patio.”

Monty checked his phone and his eyes went wide. “Oh crap.” He looked over to Miller. “I didn’t realize it was so late.” 11pm wasn’t _that_ late, but Miller knew what he meant. They had work in the morning and they’d already been there for a few hours. “We can, um…” he seemed conflicted.

While he trailed off, there was a gasp across the room. The two of them turned, finding a man and a woman a few steps away from each other, that _look_ on both of their faces. “Kyle!” the girl repeated, strongly, _loudly_ , and a laugh erupted from the boy. “Kyle, Kyle!”

Then he was on her, his arms wrapped around her, repeating her name back to her. _Roma, Roma, Roma_ , the two of them overwhelmed with whatever it was that came with soulmates, shivering and gasping and needing to find their own room sooner rather than later.

“We should get out of here,” Miller said gently, tugging Monty’s gaze away from the two new soulmates.

Monty turned to him. “Come to my place,” he said. Miller’s mouth went dry. “If you want,” Monty added quickly. “I just--don’t really want tonight to end, yet?”

“I’ll follow you with my car,” Miller said with a nod, not knowing where Monty’s apartment was.

The new soulmates were just alone now, together, repeating each other’s name back to one another (in which Miller had a feeling it would be going on for hours, _days_ ), and Miller felt something going hollow in his chest. How did Monty feel about soulmates? They hadn’t spoken about it. And he looked entranced as the sight of the two of them finding one another. Was he just as desperate to find his other half as some people? As Miller’s ex had been?

“Let’s go,” Monty urged.

* * *

Monty’s apartment felt homey despite the fact that he’d only lived there for a few weeks. He still had a few boxes here and there but he’d managed to hang some stuff up on the walls, and the scattered mugs here and there made Miller smile.

“So this is it,” Monty said, gesturing widely.

“It’s cute,” Miller told him as Monty flicked on the light. And then, not meaning to, “You’re cute.”

Monty leaned back against the wall he was nearest to. “Yeah?”

Miller wasn’t drunk. He’d been sober enough to drive. But being around Monty made his brain feel tipsy anyway. “Yeah,” Miller admitted.

Monty smiled, and again Miller’s chest was doing strange things. “That’s great to hear,” Monty said, his eyes downcast. “Because I didn’t ask you out to drinks just as friends.”

_Oh thank fuck._

“No?”

“Not really.”

Miller stepped toward him slowly. If they were both on the same page here then there was no point in wasting time.

“So,” he murmured, “if I were to kiss you right now…?”

Monty’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and Miller’s insides were set aflame. “I’d be totally unopposed,” Monty answered. He tipped his chin forward as Miller came even closer, something light in his eyes. “Like, _super_ unopposed.”

“Yeah?” Miller whispered.

Monty craned his neck a bit more. “Yeah,” he breathed back. A smile passed between the two of them before Miller pressed his lips to Monty’s. Miller wound his arms around Monty’s waist to tug him closer, but Monty moved away just a breath. “Thought you weren’t looking for anything?” he exhaled.

“Sometimes people surprise you,” Miller murmured back.

Monty grinned, reaching up to cup Miller’s cheeks and pull him back down. Miller’s hands slipped up Monty’s back, across his bare skin, and Monty groaned into his mouth. Miller edged Monty’s shirt upwards and Monty reared back again.

“Wait,” he rasped. Miller didn’t want to wait. Couldn’t Monty feel it too? The pull between the two of them, the urgency bubbling beneath their skin? There was something here he hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever, and he didn’t want it to end. “We can…” Monty exhaled deeply, closing his eyes to speak. Miller leaned in to rest his forehead against Monty’s, letting him collect his thoughts. Maybe his brain was as scattered as Miller’s after all. “We can strip down,” Monty carried on. “But just kissing,” he finally settled on. “For tonight.”

“Mo--” Miller started, swallowing down Monty’s name before he could bring it to fruition. _Not yet, not yet, not yet._ Still, Monty’s eyes opened, widening, his pupils dilating as he looked into Miller’s. “Just kissing,” Miller agreed softly.

Monty nodded after that, reaching down to help Miller pull his own shirt off before tossing it aside. It hadn’t been that long since Miller made out with someone else, getting drunk at the bars led to some weird hookups sometimes, but seeing Monty shirtless made Miller’s mouth go dry.

“I’m not that impressive,” Monty said hurriedly, embarrassed, which was insane because it wasn’t true at _all_.  

Miller licked his lips. “You are,” he countered.

“Not like you, I’m sure,” Monty went on, reaching for Miller’s shirt.

“Hey,” Miller grabbed Monty’s wrists gently, tugging him a step closer. “You are,” he said again.

The small but outstanding smile that erupted on Monty’s face had Miller leaning in again with that overwhelming urgency back, the need to kiss him more important than anything else.

“This,” Monty murmured, tugging on Miller’s shirt. Miller made quick work of it after that, groaning as Monty slid his hands up Miller’s bare chest. “Yeah,” he exhaled.

“Bedroom?” Miller asked.

Monty slid his fingers through Miller’s belt loops and tugged him backwards, the two of them grinning wildly.

* * *

“So…” Monty trailed off as Miller traced soft, small circles on his bare chest. Their eyes met for a moment, another smile was exchanged, and then Monty cleared his throat. It was nearly midnight now and Miller missed making out with people. “Is this a thing now?” he asked.

“If you want,” Miller answered gently. He was happy that Monty had set up boundaries. Not everything had to lead to sex. And making out with Monty was freaking awesome.

“That’s not what I asked, Miller,” Monty said. Miller leaned in, stealing a soft kiss before pressing another to Monty’s chin. “But it is,” he exhaled. “What I want. I mean I know it’s--I just, yes.”

“Okay,” Miller whispered. “Cool. Me too.” Monty beamed and Miller pressed another kiss to Monty’s chin.

Monty edged closer, sliding his arm around Miller’s waist and sliding his hand up Miller’s bare back. “I, uh, feel like there’s a thing we should talk about first, though.” Miller’s smile faded but Monty didn’t seem to notice. “Soulmates are kind of a thing,” he said.

Miller swallowed. “Yeah. And?”

“I don’t know,” Monty answered quickly. He hadn’t noticed that Miller’s hand had stalled. He knew that seeing that couple at the bar tonight meant something to Monty. “Some people have really--really weird beliefs, I guess. Surrounding them.”

“Weird how?”

“Like--once I was dating this girl and she told me at the beginning that if she met her soulmate it was over with me. And then it happened, and she was gone the next day,” Monty said. “Weird like an entire-- _thing_ \--is just over and voided and null, and--”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Miller cut him off. “That’s not what it’s about for me.”

Monty seemed to sigh, and Miller was happy he wasn’t demanding Miller to say his name just to test it out. _Monty_. It would be so easy to slip into the space between them. Followed by instantaneous knowledge of whether or not it was them. And then there was that urge, deep in Miller’s chest, to give Monty his own name. _Nathan_. He deserved it, if they were moving into something else, something more defined. But it got caught in his throat and he swallowed it down.

He just wasn’t ready yet.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Good. Me neither.” Monty slipped his hand up Miller’s chest. “But I’m not stupid,” he said lowly, and Miller’s eyebrows furrowed. “I know you haven’t said my name. And I’m not--asking you to. Not yet.”

Miller felt like needed to explain himself. “There was someone--”

“Hey,” Monty cut him off. “It’s okay. Like I said. I had someone once too so I get it.” Miller’s eyes dropped but Monty was quick, lifting his hand to his cheek and tilting his chin so Miller was looking at him. “One day, though,” Monty murmured. “If this is going to be a thing.”

“I know,” Miller murmured back.

Monty leaned in for a soft kiss, a kiss that had no right being so gentle, and Miller sighed. He knew, without words, that it was a promise that there would be no rush.

* * *

“It’s a little fucked up,” Clarke said a few days later after she ran into Monty on her way into the apartment while he was hurrying out. “Don’t you think?”

Bellamy was out grocery shopping but Clarke had brought Wells, so it was just the three of them in the apartment. Which made sense if they were going to pester him about Monty, seeing as they were his two childhood friends and he’s known them the longest, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk about it. He hadn’t told any of their friends that he and Monty were hooking up. It was just making out, mostly. But it had been every day for a few days now, so it was probably a thing worth mentioning.

“There are like, three things you could be mad at me for,” Miller said, dropping onto the couch. “Which is it?”

“Wait, three?” Clarke asked. “What are they?”

“I don’t know. Making out with your friend. Not telling you.”

“Hey, I’m happy that you and Monty are becoming a thing. Mostly I’m just upset that I’m sure you refuse to say his name and I’m not sure that he even knows yours,” Clarke pointed out.

Wells let out a long sigh. “Leave Miller alone,” he said tiredly. “You remember what it was like after Bryan.”

Not expecting to hear that name, Miller tensed.

It was a story that Monty deserved to hear, most definitely, but Miller couldn’t bring himself to tell it. It was the same thing. Met a cute boy, introduced himself as Miller, refused to say the other’s name. Bryan was a lot. He was kind and quiet and had a smile that made Miller’s stomach do strange things.

But Bryan wanted a _soulmate_. He didn’t want a boyfriend.

He would disagree, of course, whenever Miller brought it up. “You know that I love you,” Bryan would always say. They’d been together for two years, after all, so of course Bryan loved him. Miller loved him back, enough that he’d given him his name early into it.

There was no magic when Bryan echoed it back to him, however, and he could see the disappointment on Bryan’s face when Miller would call him by name and there was no spark there, either. Still, they were happy. They made it work. They _loved_ each other.

But then Eric Jackson came along, called out Bryan’s name at the fucking Starbucks counter, and Bryan was gone within the week.

“Because it’s not about whether or not Dumbledore’s a good guy,” Bryan was saying as they lounged by the counter waiting for his drink, Miller already with his coffee in hand. “It’s about whether or not he’s a good--”

“Bryan?”

Miller saw it on his face at once, watched the way Bryan’s eyes widened, the way his attention snapped up to the barista at once who was smiling at him warmly, familiarly.

Days later Miller still remembered chasing Bryan down the hallway of their apartment, the ache in his chest so fucking heavy as he shouted, “I thought you loved me.”

Bryan had turned to him, his eyes sad and desperate all at once, before responding, “I do. But he’s my _soulmate_.”

So it wasn’t entirely Miller’s _fault_ that names made him seize up. Even though Monty _said_ he didn’t care about that, about sharing a name, Miller knew there was probably some small part of him that did. Hell, there was a small part of Miller that cared about soulmates, too. Half of him abhorred them, the other half was desperate to feel what Bellamy and Clarke felt when they spoke each other’s name. He wasn’t ready for the disappointment that fell on Monty’s face when Miller spoke his name, that small flicker in his eyes that meant destiny had other plans for them.

For now, they were just making out. And it was fine.

“You can’t let one disappointment of a person ruin everything for you,” Clarke huffed, shooting a look in Wells’ direction for defending Miller. “It’s just a name.”

“You have a soulmate who says your name without restriction,” Wells countered. “To you, it’s a name. To people like us,” he said, gesturing toward Miller. “It’s always going to be a little different.”

Wells had found his soulmate a few years ago, a girl named Shae. But she’d sworn off soulmates entirely, going as far as to change her name to avoid running into her own. She and Wells met at a political protest about climate change, but then she was gone. Vanished off the face of the planet. Untraceable. He’d tried finding her but there was no use, she was gone.

He had Raven now. They weren’t soulmates, but they were happy.

(Raven’s soulmate was a sack of shit that had cheated on her time and time again. She left.)

Miller thought he’d have that with Bryan. Maybe now he’ll have it with Monty.

But for now, he’s allowed to be afraid. To be hesitant. To hold his name close to his heart instead of giving it away.

* * *

Clarke finding out about Monty and Miller meant that Bellamy knew the same day.

 **From Bellamy** **  
**Clarke told me that you and Monty  
are hooking up? Hell yeah man

 **From Miller** **  
**Thanks for having this convo with  
me over text so we don’t have to  
do it in person.

 **From Bellamy** **  
**Would you rather have this convo  
in person? Because I can wait

 **From Miller** **  
** No I’m good.

 **From Bellamy** **  
** I like Monty

 **From Miller** **  
** It’s just making out.

 **From Bellamy** **  
**It’s never just making out when it  
comes to you Miller

 **From Miller** **  
**Whatever. It also don’t require your  
approval.

 **From Bellamy** **  
** Too bad, you have it

* * *

If it wasn’t for the short knock on the front door, Miller was pretty sure he would’ve fallen asleep on the couch.

Clarke and Bellamy were out on date night, and Miller decided that he was going to go to bed early. However. The knock.

He closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to wake himself up and shook his head just a bit before pushing himself to stand and lumbering over to the door. To find Monty on the other side, his arms wrapped around himself and his eyebrows furrowed together, was a little surprising to say the least.

“I didn’t text,” Monty murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Miller cast a glance over his shoulder despite knowing he was alone before pushing open the door and motioning for him to come inside. “Hey, it’s fine. What’s wrong?”

Monty shook his head as he entered the apartment, letting the door swing shut behind him. “I don’t know. I’ve had a day.”

“A day?” Miller echoed.

“Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Monty looked up at him then with a nod, nothing but gratefulness shining in his eyes. “Kind of, yeah.” Monty walked past him then, past the living room, heading straight for Miller’s bedroom. Miller followed slowly, waiting to see what Monty would do, and smiled just a bit when Monty perched on the edge of his bed. Miller lingered in the doorway. “Sorry that I’m just…”

“It’s okay,” Miller filled in as he trailed off. “Really.” Monty looked up at him slowly, his eyes wet. “What happened?”

Monty dragged his hands through his hair. “I miss home,” he rasped. “Today especially. I don’t know why. It’s not like anything reminded me of it. The weather here was fine. The traffic was fine.”

“Sometimes you just miss home,” Miller murmured. “That’s okay.”

“I texted Jasper,” Monty carried on weakly, mentioning his best friend. “He, uh. He found his soulmate. Like. Yesterday?” Monty’s voice sounds tight. “So he’s postponing his move out here so they can get to know each other. Which--” Monty swallowed, ducking his head. “I’m happy for him. Really, Miller. And everyone here has been--like--you’re so great, and--”

“Hey,” Miller rushed into his room, reaching out for Monty. “Hey. It’s okay.” Monty leaned forward as Miller grabbed his hands, resting his forehead against Miller’s shoulder. “You don’t have to talk me up while you’re having a bad day.”

A weak laugh crawled out of Monty. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful--”

“You miss your best friend,” Miller cut him off gently. “You miss home. That’s understandable.” Miller reached up then, cupping the back of Monty’s head gently. “What do you need from me?” he asked. They had alcohol, if that was what Monty wanted. Or maybe they could make out for a bit, Miller giving Monty pieces of himself so he could heal.

Monty pulled away and looked up at him for a moment before his eyes darted somewhere else.

“It…” he started.

“What is it?” Miller asked.

“You can say no,” Monty carried on. “I know it’s intimate, I just--”

“ _What do you need_?” Miller asked again.

“Could you maybe just hold me?” Monty asked. “For a bit? I know we might not be there yet, but--”

Miller reached up, brushing his fingers through Monty’s hair. It _was_ intimate. But if that was what Monty needed, then that’s what Miller would do. “Come on,” Miller said gently. “Let’s lay down.” Monty’s smile was small and thankful. He climbed backwards onto Miller’s bed, kicking off his shoes as he went, while Miller moved up to the other side as well. “C’mere,” he murmured, opening his arms.

With a sigh, Monty crossed the small space between them. Miller’s arms wrapped around him instinctively and Monty sighed another time, pressing his forehead to Miller’s collarbone.

They were both quiet for a moment. “You ever wonder what your soulmate’s up to?” Monty murmured as he buried himself against Miller.

Miller tensed. “Not really.” He could feel Monty’s warm breath, puffing against his shirt. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Mm.” Monty nuzzled closer. “Yeah. I’m hoping they have someone like you.” Monty peeled back, looking up at him. “Someone who makes them feel like this.”

Something inside of Miller felt impossibly warm. He bent down, pressing a kiss to Monty’s forehead, before tugging Monty closer against him.

* * *

They fell asleep like that.

In the morning, Miller was the first to wake. He didn’t work until 9 but his body woke him up at 7:30 on its own. He knew Monty must have had to work too. “Baby,” Miller murmured softly, pressing warm kisses to Monty’s forehead. “Hey, it’s morning.”

“Mmm…” Monty just kept burying himself close, sending Miller’s heart tossing and turning inside of his chest.

“I’ll give you some time to wake up,” Miller said fondly. He bent, kissing Monty’s forehead another time. “Am I going to need to come back and pester you?”

“No,” Monty murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “I’m up, I’m up.” Another kiss, a laugh from Monty. “Swear it!”

He liked Monty so damn much.

Miller crept out of bed as carefully as he could before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. The coffee pot was already rumbling which meant Bellamy or Clarke must’ve been awake already. He heard his door creak open but Miller went about making his morning cup of coffee as Monty managed to rouse himself.

Miller sighed as Monty wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into Miller’s back with a soft groan. “Good morning,” Miller said with a smile, happy he didn’t have to go back in and wake him up a second time. “Sleep okay?”

“Mmf.”

Miller laughed, turning in Monty’s grasp as he peeled back sleepily. “You want breakfast?” Miller offered.

Monty shook his head. “I’ve got to get to work. I just…” he trailed off and Miller’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “I really like you,” Monty said softly.

Miller leaned in. He was sure that Monty felt it too. That despite the fact it had been such a short amount of time, there was something there between them. Something strong. Monty pressed himself on his toes to meet Miller in the kiss while Miller framed Monty’s face with his large hands.

“I can make you coffee,” Miller murmured against his mouth. “Travel mug. To go.”

Monty kissed him another time. “That’d be great.” Except instead of letting Miller actually make the coffee, Monty was kissing him again, his hands fisting Miller’s shirt to keep him close.

“Well good morning,” they heard. Monty pulled away but Miller kept leaning in, ending up with his forehead against Monty’s temple. “Hi Monty.”

“Hi Bellamy,” Monty returned.

Miller smiled. “Didn’t realize you stayed the night,” Bellamy carried on while Miller finally turned away to prepare Monty’s coffee. “Staying for breakfast?”

“Like I told Miller,” Monty said, reaching up to rub his eyes. “Gotta get to work. I didn’t, uh--I wasn’t prepared to stay the night. So I’ve got to swing by my apartment and grab something to change into.” Miller finished off the coffee, popping the lid onto the top, before handing it to Monty. “Thanks,” he said softly. “For everything, Miller.”

Miller reached down to tip Monty’s chin forward, kissing him another time. “I’ll see you soon,” he said gently.

“Mm.” Monty kissed him again before smiling softly at Bellamy. “I’ll see you,” he said to them both.

Miller leaned back against the counter, reaching for his own mug with a smile and waiting until the front door clicked shut as Monty left to look over at Bellamy. Bellamy looked happy.

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” Miller echoed.

“You and Monty are getting serious, then?” Bellamy asked. Miller sipped from his mug. “Seems fast,” he pointed out. Miller shrugged. “You really like him?”

“I do,” Miller said. “Monty’s, ah…” Miller trailed off, smiling to himself at the feel of Monty’s name in his mouth. He hadn’t said it before, not to Monty. And as long as Monty wasn’t around to hear it, he could say it all he liked. “I know things with Monty are going fast,” Miller said, just wanting to say Monty’s name another time, “and I wasn’t--I didn’t think I was ready for anything. But he makes me feel…” Miller trailed off, sipping his drink another time as he tried to find the word.

“Happiness looks good on you, Miller,” Bellamy said.

“Shut up,” Miller muttered, but still, he was smiling.

* * *

**From Monty  
** but like do we haaave to  
go to the bar or can we stay  
in and make out instead

 **From Miller** **  
**Wells got promoted so yes we  
have to go. For a bit.

 **From Monty** **  
** for a bit?

 **From Miller** **  
** Just a bit.

Clarke found Miller at the bar nursing a drink for himself with a soft smile on his face. He was happy. He couldn’t figure out how he was allowed to be this happy so suddenly. Just a few weeks ago he’d been convinced he didn’t need anything with anyone, he didn’t _want_ anything with anyone.

But Monty had arrived and wormed his way into Miller’s life with his incredible smile and his wicked smart brain and Miller was so damn happy.

“Monty coming?” she asked, settling onto the stool beside him.

It was strange how she was the one asking, seeing as she’d been the one to bring Monty to their friend group, but Clarke looked happy with the outcome, too.

“Over there with Bellamy, actually,” Miller said, jerking his head to the side so Clarke could follow with her eyes. Her smile blossomed. “Things turned out okay, huh?” he asked.

“I knew Monty would fit in just fine,” Clarke said. “I’m glad it worked out with you two, too. I’m really happy for you. Despite… some things.”

“Some things,” Miller echoed back.

“Soulmate baggage things,” she said easily. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine in time.”

“It will be,” Miller told her. He glanced over then, back to Bellamy and Monty, and grinned when Monty winked at him. _So damn happy_.

He talked with Clarke a bit before she excused herself, off to find Wells and buy him a shot, leaving Miller at the bar to nurse his drink alone again. It was then that the sound in the bar shifted, making it much easier for Miller to hear what Bellamy and Monty were talking about as the leaned against the nearby wall.

And almost as though he knew Miller could hear them, Bellamy asked, “You and Miller, huh?”

Monty nodded, a small laugh in his voice. “Yeah, me and Miller.”

“Seems fast, is all. Is it serious yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“But you hope it gets there? You like him like that?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Monty said, dragging out the word, and Miller had to keep himself from smiling. “I do. Miller’s really--he’s. Yeah, I really like him.” He sounded happy, and Miller felt happy, and that was good. Monty was good. Things with Monty, no matter how they were moving along, were good.

“That’s great,” Bellamy said with a grin. “Yeah, Miller’s great. I mean, he’s my best friend so I kind of have to say that. But.”

Monty laughed. “Miller’s a weird name though, right?” he asked, almost as though he’d been waiting to ask someone for a while now. “Just a little? It’s stupid that that’s the one thing I’m hung up on, I know, but.”

Now it was Bellamy’s turn to laugh. “Well it’s his last name, Monty, so not really.” Miller whirled around in his seat, ready to march across the bar and end this conversation at once. He knew where it was heading, and Bellamy as drunk as he was, seeing as they’d been there for a bit now, would lead it in a direction that made Miller more afraid than he cared to admit.

“What?” Monty asked. “He--we make out all the time and he hasn’t told me his real name!” He looked affronted, but sounded like there was a laugh in his voice. “I mean, I guess I never asked, actually. And--Miller does read more of a last name than a first.” The bartender called for Miller to grab his card but he was already walking toward the two men, his heart starting to race. “But, whatever. What’s his name, then?”

“Nathan,” Bellamy answered.

Nothing.

“Nathan?” Monty echoed.

 _Everything_.

Miller froze in his step, trying to understand what it was that had just happened to him.

“So Nathan Miller, then?” Monty asked, and there it was again, the feeling of the universe inside of his lungs for the briefest of moments. Like he’d just surfaced and he was taking his first breath of fresh air in all 25 years of his life. Like a star had exploded and was desperately trying to cover every inch of his skin with warmth in the span of a millisecond. “Yeah, that makes sense. Interesting.”

It took Miller a moment to collect himself. Another moment. Another moment.

Miller forced himself forward, still in a daze. “Speak of the devil,” Bellamy called with a grin as he approached.

Monty was still smiling, this dopey sort of smile that made Miller’s stomach do absurd things. “How come you’ve never told me your first name?” Monty asked, and Miller was thankful he didn’t say it as he asked. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from reacting. Even after it had happened to him twice, he wasn’t even sure how it would feel. “I wouldn’t have--I know that you--”

“Later,” Miller murmured. “I have to talk to you,” he rasped to Bellamy. “Now.”

Bellamy made a face at Monty, who looked upset himself. “Yikes,” he murmured. “What’d I--”

“ _Now_ ,” Miller repeated, completely ignoring the look of concern that flashed across Monty’s face. Again, Bellamy shot some sort of look in Monty’s direction, but then they were heading back to the bar and away from the man who had so much power in his voice he could make Miller fall to his knees. “What the hell is _wrong with you_?” he gasped out, digging his finger into Bellamy’s chest once they were out of Monty’s earshot. “You told him my name.”

“Aw--fuck, Miller,” Bellamy grumbled, disheveled enough that Miller knew he was drunk. “I’m _sorry_. But, to be fair, you _do_ make out with the guy, and--”

“You don’t understand,” Miller cut him off, his tone sharp.

“No, I do understand,” Bellamy said tiredly. “You’re worried about the whole soulmate thing, and--”

“It’s him,” Miller cut him off again.

Bellamy frowned. “What’s--”

“It’s _him_ ,” Miller repeated, sharper, more desperate, needing Bellamy to understand without Miller actually having said his name. He can’t say his name now. There’s no way he can say Monty’s name and not be instantly and irrevocably afraid. Understanding passed over Bellamy’s face. “It was mine to give,” he carried on, still feeling desperate. “My name.” Part of him wanted to snatch his name out of Monty’s mouth, never to be said again. But another part of him, a larger part of him, wanted to wrap himself around Monty and listen as Monty whispered his name again, over and over, letting the feeling of it overtake him. “And now I can’t, and now--”

“I didn’t know,” Bellamy hurried. “Miller, I--I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“How could you have?” he snapped. “None of us could have known!” This was too much. This was exactly what Miller had been trying to avoid, this feeling that was greater than himself. “I have to go,” Miller rasped, pushing himself away from the bar.

“Hey, wait, wait, wait,” Bellamy rushed, a slow and hesitant smile taking his face as he reached for his friend. “Miller, just wait a second! I know you’re afraid, but--”

“Fuck off,” Miller growled, yanking his arm out of Bellamy’s grasp. He pointed at him. “Don’t you dare say a fucking thing,” he ordered. “Do you understand?”

Bellamy’s face fell. “Miller,” he nearly pleaded. “Monty should _know_. Just--this could be--!”

“ _Not a thing_ ,” he commanded.

Bellamy lowered his arms to his sides, his face full of sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said. The sincerity in his voice was real, Miller knew it, but something was twisting its way around Miller’s heart and lungs and making it difficult to breathe, difficult to be in this bar for a second longer.

He hurried away without even thinking about looking back.

* * *

**From Monty  
** you left the bar last night  
without saying anything…  
you ok?

 **From Monty** **  
**bellamy looked super upset  
after you talked to him but wouldn’t  
say why. i just wanna check in.

 **From Miller** **  
** I’m fine.

 **From Monty** **  
** ya sure? if you need to talk…

 **From Miller** **  
** Drop it. I’m fine.

 **From Monty** **  
** dang miller i can take a hint

 **From Monty** **  
** sorry

Miller huffed in frustration. He had no reason to be so short with Monty, not at all. It’s not like any of this was his fault. And it’s not like there had to be a _fault_ laid blame at all.

But he’d never anticipated this. Part of him had believed he’d never run into his soulmate at all, that he’d protected himself enough from that thing called fate. But then Monty was there and Miller _liked_ him, maybe more than he should’ve that early in a relationship that was true, and now it was just--it was more complicated.

 **From Monty** **  
**wanna come over tonight  
and not talk abt it?

It wasn’t _fair_.

 **From Miller** **  
** Nah, I’m okay.

 **From Monty** **  
** if you say so

* * *

Retreating to his bedroom for the rest of the weekend was probably not the best way to deal with the situation at hand. But Miller wasn’t entirely sure what to do and he just wanted to talk to his dad.

There was a gentle knock on the door and Miller clenched his teeth, worried about who would enter, when Bellamy ducked his head in. “Hey,” he said quietly. Miller wanted to bury himself under his blankets. “Can we talk about yesterday?” he asked.

“Nothing to talk about.”

“There’s plenty to talk about,” Bellamy huffed. He glanced over his shoulder and stepped inside, shutting the door with a click. “I haven’t told anyone, Miller, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried,” he lied.

“Man you--” Bellamy dropped his voice. “You found your _soulmate_!” Miller still kept his eyes somewhere else. “You found your soulmate and it’s not only a guy that you’ve told me repeatedly that you actually _like_ , but you found him before you even figured it out! That’s--Miller, that’s fucking incredible.”

All of that was true. And yet, still he was afraid.

“What if he doesn’t want me?” Miller rasped.

“He already wants you,” Bellamy said. He crossed the room, lowering himself onto the edge of Miller’s bed. “Before everything he was just telling me how much he _likes you_ , man.” Bellamy reached out, careful, resting his hand on Miller’s shoulder. “The thing no one tells you about soulmates is that it’s the same as any other relationship,” Bellamy murmured. “You get out of it what you put in. The only difference is the way you feel when they say your name. Ask Raven, or Wells.” He shook his head. “Things didn’t work out with their soulmates, but not because they weren’t fucking shivering when they said each other’s names. It’s not _magic._ ”

He just kept thinking about Bryan and how awful he felt in the days afterwards and how the idea of a soulmate, any soulmate, sat bitter in his stomach. Miller _knew_ this wasn’t about Monty.

It was about soulmates.

“I’m not ready,” he finally said, his voice still thick. “I’m just--I’m not ready, Bellamy.”

He sighed and nodded his head. “Okay.” Bellamy pushed himself from the bed. “But don’t make him wait too long, yeah? He deserves to know what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Miller agreed. “I won’t.”

* * *

Monty reached out every day for the first week with Miller consistently rebuffing him as gently as he could.

Miller came out one morning, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, to find Bellamy on the phone. “Yeah, I don’t know, man.” When Bellamy spotted Miller he held up his hand, telling him to be silent, to _wait_ , and lowered his phone from his ear. Then the call was on speaker phone. “Miller’s just… he gets in his own head sometimes.”

Miller stood, pressed to the wall, as the sound of Monty’s sigh echoed through the room. Bellamy was looking at him as though expecting him to say something, but all of the words were caught in Miller’s throat and he couldn’t get any of them to work.

“I didn’t think he was like that,” Monty finally said through the speaker. “I mean--you’re his best friend. Right? You know him better than I would.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said slowly. “That’s true. But sometimes Miller does shit I don’t understand, either.” Miller dropped his eyes and fought off the guilt inside of his chest. His intention wasn’t to hurt Monty, not at all. “I’ll see if I can get him to talk to me,” Bellamy said. “Cool?”

“Yeah,” Monty agreed. “Cool. Thanks, Bellamy.” There was a pause. “I mean--I’m… hurt. That he won’t talk to me. But I just want to know that he’s okay, really.” Monty sighed again. “Maybe we went too fast,” he said, his voice softer. “Maybe I put too much pressure on us being _something_.”

Miller thunked his head backwards against the wall. _Say something, you asshole_ , he thought. And yet, nothing.

“I wouldn’t know,” Bellamy admitted.

“Yeah,” Monty sighed, the softest yet. “Okay. Well thanks again, Bellamy. I--sorry, I know it must be weird for you.”

“Nah, it’s cool.”

“Clarke hasn’t noticed yet, right?”

“I’m sure she’s noticed,” Bellamy said, “but she hasn’t said anything.”

“I don’t want to drag her into it,” Monty said. “If you can help it.”

“Got it.” Monty sighed again. “I’ll see you soon, Monty. Yeah? Don’t let this get to you.”

“Yeah,” Monty said again. “See ya, Bellamy.”

They hung up. Bellamy crossed his arms over his chest. Miller stood in silence. “Monty misses you,” Bellamy finally said. “Not like you care.”

“Shut up,” Miller snapped. “Of course I--fuck.” He reached up, scrubbing at his face. “Of course I care, Bellamy! Like I said I’m just not--I’m not _ready_ , okay?”

“What do you need to be ready then, huh?”

“I don’t--God, I don’t know. I need to talk to my fucking dad, or something.”

“Then go talk to your dad!” Miller scrubbed his hands over his face. A trip to DC would take a few hours, but David wouldn’t mind if he showed up unannounced. Especially if Miller was having a stupid fucking crisis. “You know I love you,” Bellamy said, “but you’re doing him wrong.”

“I _know_ ,” Miller rasped. He _knew_ that. “Monty’s really--” Miller fumbled over Monty’s name. “He’s great,” he rushed.

He only knew pieces about him, considering things were still new, and such, but everything he knew he was a fan of. He loved that Monty was invested in animated Disney movies and hated the live action remakes. It made Miller smile thinking about Monty downloading movie scores as opposed to real music because movie scores had more _feeling_. He _liked_ Monty. He knew, in time, it could be more. (Would be more, if the universe had anything to say about it.) And still, and still, and still.

“I’m going,” Miller murmured, turning back to his room so he could pack a bag. “You don’t have to look at me like that.”

* * *

Monty stopped texting him the following day.

Miller wondered if it was him giving Miller room, or Monty just giving up. He couldn’t blame him if he was giving up. Still, reading through the messages that came before, there was some sort of aching in his bones.

The drive to David’s hadn’t been long. Two knocks later, Miller’s dad opened the door.

“Nate!” he beamed at his son, welcoming him in without hesitation. “You will never guess who was by the other day,” he went on, not questioning his son’s arrival whatsoever. “Thelonious! He was asking about you, by the way, which made me think of you. And look! Now you’re here.”

“Now I’m here,” Miller agreed. “Two hours away from home. Just to say hey.”

David laughed. “I’m not dim, Nathan, I know you have a reason for being here.” Miller followed his father in toward the kitchen. “I figured I’d offer a beer before we got to the emotions, though.”

Miller smiled. His father knew him so well. “Great idea.”

* * *

Despite the urgency Miller felt in his gut to talk about what had happened to him, to talk about _Monty_ , David was right. Miller needed a few beers to work up the courage. It’s just--he’d never been very good at this. He didn’t know how to broach the subject. He knew, of course, that David would support him and give him solid advice, but soulmates were a touchy subject in the first place.

“I’m seeing someone,” Miller finally said.

David nodded. “I’d assumed.” There was a pause. “Is it like Bryan?”

“In a way,” Miller said.

“Don’t make me guess, Nate.”

Miller let out a long, laboring breath. “I started seeing someone,” Miller murmured, “and recently discovered him to be my soulmate.”

David’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “You found him?” he asked.

“He found me, I guess,” Miller muttered. “It’s--I’m confused. It’s complicated.”

“Why do you always have to make things complicated?” David asked with a laugh.

Miller managed a smile. “It’s just…” he trailed off. “I was really falling for him,” Miller told his father. “And this changes things, somehow.”

“Minimally,” David said. “If you were already falling for him, what does it change?” David shook his head. “If you already felt this way about him, then what?”

Miller scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know.”

“As someone who’s spent his entire life not making a big deal out of soulmates,” David said slowly, “you seem to be making a big deal.” Miller sighed, his hands still covering his face. They were both quiet for a long time after that. Miller _knew_ he was being dramatic, but was helpful to hear all of this from his father. “What’s his name?” he finally asked.

Miller swallowed before whispering, “Monty.” He took another moment. “Monty Green.”

David smiled. “It’s a great name.”

“He’s a great guy,” Miller responded.

“Then I’m sure you know what to do.”

* * *

Miller hid at his father’s house as long as he could, but eventually David kicked him out. “You know what you have to do,” he said, giving Miller a tight hug. Miller sighed and David squeezed him tighter. “It’s going to be wonderful,” he said gently. It felt like a promise.

So instead of driving back to his apartment where Bellamy would be there to harass him about Monty, Miller just… went to Monty’s. He sat in his car for a long time. But. Whatever. Building up courage was important. Finally, Miller took a deep breath and started off for Monty’s apartment. It wasn’t until he was actually knocking on Monty’s door did he consider that he should’ve called first. Or even sent a text.

When Monty peeled open the door and found Miller on the other side, a frown on his face, Miller’s stomach dropped. “Hey,” Miller said.

Monty’s eyes scanned his body as though looking for some sort of injury, some sort of excuse or reason for Miller to just up and vanish, as though a medical emergency could excuse the way he’d treated Monty. Of course, there was nothing.

“Hey,” Monty said. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?” Miller asked. “I--”

“I’m actually on my way out,” Monty answered, cutting him off, further curdling Miller’s stomach. Monty reached for something, his keys it seemed as they jangled, before stepping outside and forcing Miller out of his space. “So maybe another time.”

Okay, Miller deserved this. He deserved the shortness. But the courage was built and he had to act.

Monty brushed past him down the hall. “Hey, just wait,” Miller hurried, and yet onward Monty walked. “I have to _talk_ to you,” Miller said urgently, following after him..

“So _now_ you have to talk to me?” Monty demanded, spinning around to face him. “After avoiding me for so long, _now_ you have to talk to me? When I’m finally ready to move on?” He scoffed. “No, Miller. I can’t do that.”

“I have reasons,” he tried.

“I don’t want to hear them.” Monty turned again, marching down the hallway further, and Miller knew what he had to do. “I tried to give you space and I tried to wait for a reason but--I can’t anymore. I thought that maybe there was something here,” Monty carried on. “But I’m not going to wait for--”

“ _Monty_ ,” Miller cut him off.

Monty froze. He turned to look at Miller, his eyes widened slightly and Miller knew, without any flicker of doubt, that Monty could feel it. His lips parted and he blinked and shook his head as though he didn’t understand what had just happened. But there was no mistaking the feeling. It would just take him a moment.

Monty spun away from him, still shaking his head, before turning back to Miller looking more than confused.

He hesitated. Monty swallowed. “Nathan?” he whispered.

The feeling was back, stronger than before, so visceral and warm and overwhelming that Miller’s entire body felt as though his atoms were shaking.

“Yeah, Monty,” he exhaled, and again Monty shivered. “It’s me.” Monty’s lips parted as he stared and Miller forced himself to give his speech. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” he said, his voice thick. “I never--I didn’t want to hurt you, that wasn’t the plan at all. But I--Jesus, Monty,” he looked down as Monty stood up straighter. “I’m fucking terrified. I’ve been fucking terrified ever since I overheard you say my name in the bar a few weeks ago and it’s fucking consuming me and I’m _sorry_.”

“Nathan,” Monty said again, and there it was another time, that feeling that could never be properly put into words. Monty strode forward and Miller was trying to figure out how to breathe.

“It’s just,” Miller carried on, “you say my name and I feel like I don’t know anything about anything.”

“ _Nathan_.”

“Including myself,” Miller rasped. “You say my name and I don’t know who I am I just know that feeling, that _moment_ , the sound of it and that’s so fucking--”

Monty was close enough now that he could easily reach out, cupping Miller’s cheek. “Scary?” Monty filled in for him.

Miller leaned into his touch. “It’s like I don’t know anything about you,” he exhaled.

“But you want to?” Monty asked, and Miller nodded at once.

“I had someone,” Miller rasped, his eyes falling shut. “I loved him. And he left me without--I know you said you had someone too but what he did--leaving me for his soulmate, it--fuck, it hurt so bad.” Monty brushed his thumb over Miller’s chin. “So I was afraid, hence not giving you my name, I was afraid that you’d want what I couldn’t give you and then you spoke _my_ name and I--God…”

Monty surged forward to kiss him and Miller groaned into it, welcoming the feel of Monty’s mouth on his own, the feel of lips that could speak his name and make him feel invincible. As much as Miller wanted to do this, make up for all the lost time they missed from Miller being a fucking idiot, he still needed to explain more.

“Monty,” he pulled away again, and Monty gasped into the space between them. He lowered his head to Monty’s forehead. “It was never you,” Miller told him. “The fact that it was you--that wasn’t what kept me away.” Monty’s hands found Miller’s shirt, gripping the fabric to keep him there. “Soulmates in general, they’ve always… I’ve never really…”

“But I’m okay?” Monty asked as he trailed off. “Me being your soulmate, that’s--”

“Way more than okay,” Miller rasped, cutting him off. They were looking at each other now, Miller’s hands cradling Monty’s cheeks, his thumbs gently brushing over his jaw. “You are… _so_ …”

Miller didn’t even know what to say. Monty smiled anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Miller said again. He’d say it a million times if he had to.

Yet Monty shook his head, that smile still there. “Will you tell me?” he asked. “About your someone. So I can understand.”

No matter how much it still hurt, Miller nodded. “I will.”

“Then okay. I forgive you.”

Monty leaned forward and Miller met him in the middle. He missed this, kissing Monty. Even in this new light, knowing that they owned parts of one another’s souls, that the universe had chosen them and twined them together, their kisses were just as they had been before. _That means it’s meant to be_ , Miller thought deliriously, tilting Monty’s chin up to capture his lips again.

“Didn’t you have to go?” Miller murmured against Monty’s mouth. He pulled back, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You said something…” Miller trailed off. “Ready to move on, or whatever.”

Monty laughed, and it turned out that not only Miller’s name in Monty’s mouth made him feel as though he could command lightning. “Oh. No. I mean--yeah, but no. Just trying to make you jealous, I guess.” Miller dipped in so their noses could brush before stealing another kiss. “Jasper’s in town,” Monty exhaled.

“Best friend?” Miller asked.

Monty beamed. “You remembered.”

“Course.”

“I was going to his hotel to pick him up,” Monty carried on. “You could come?”

Miller laughed, kissing him again. “No. You go. I just--I spent all weekend with my dad and had to see you.”

Monty was grinning again. “You told your dad about me?”

“Of course, Monty,” he whispered.

He hadn’t been anticipating it, Miller realized, as a soft gasp escaped him. Monty’s eyes fell shut and Miller lingered, nose against nose, watching as Monty’s mouth moved while he tried to figure out what he was going to say.

“Does it work with Nate?” Monty asked.

Miller still felt it, waves of impossibility rolling over his skin, settling in his bones. “Yeah,” he rasped.

Monty’s eyes opened. “Good.”

* * *

Miller returned home in a bit of a daze.

It wasn’t a surprise that people could get lost in their soulmates, tucked in the side of bars whispering their names back and forth to one another, forgetting to eat to sleep to breathe.

It had been a few hours and Miller’s body still felt fully charged, like if he twitched his fingers in the right way he could send anything careening across the room, like he had the power to reshape the entire planet in a matter of moments. All because Monty said his name, again and again, softly. Just for him. Like a promise. Like a prayer.

He leaned back against the door and fought off a smile, thunking his head backwards against the wood as though trying to wake himself up from what had to be a dream.

“Miller?” Clarke called. “That you?”

He pushed himself away from the door, kicking off his shoes by the coat rack and hurrying to the kitchen where Clarke was cooking. Bellamy was perched on the counter with a cook book spread out across his lap and the two of them looked to him as he entered.

“Hey. Sorry I was gone all weekend.”

“It’s fine,” Clarke said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Bellamy said you had an emergency.”

Miller looked toward Bellamy who looked… well, not annoyed, but kind of disappointed.

“Sort of,” Miller admitted. “Monty’s my soulmate and I wasn’t sure how to proceed. But we figured it out.” Clarke’s jaw dropped, and the smile that found Bellamy’s face was a magic of it’s own. “What’s for dinner?”

Clarke looked to Bellamy, then to Miller, then back to Bellamy before charging at him with her wooden spoon. “ _You knew?_ ” she demanded. He held up his hands in innocence, but made no comment. He was still beaming. Clarke rounded on Miller. “Your _soul_ mate?!”

Miller shrugged. The thunderstorm inside his chest crackled. “Yeah.”

Again Clarke looked between the two of them, hoping one of their faces would give something away, but neither Bellamy or Miller caved. If she wanted details, she could get them from Monty.

“You two are the worst,” she said. But she was smiling, too.

* * *

Miller liked to think he would have figured it out about Monty whether or not speaking one another’s name made them react. Monty had a way of making the chaotic parts inside of him exhale and settle down, unbothered. He brought about a balance that Miller hadn’t known he’d been looking for.

He was over now, his fingers curled against Miller’s shirt, an exhausted but clearly happy smile on his face. After an evening with Jasper he called Miller and asked if he could come over. Clarke and Bellamy had been settled on one couch, the two of them both looking pleased as Monty entered quietly, but neither of them commented. Bellamy merely winked in Miller’s direction. Raven and Wells on the other couch, however, looked surprised.

“What’s going on?” Raven asked with her eyebrows high on her forehead.

“Later,” Miller told her.

Bellamy looked at Raven from his seat. “I’ll fill you in,” he said as Monty and Miller walked away.

The two of them settled onto Miller’s bed, wound in one another’s arms, as Miller explained what had happened to him beforehand with Bryan. He said, again and again, how he knew Monty wasn’t the type to have done something like that (not that it had mattered in the end), but Monty wasn’t paying much mind.

“That’s so awful,” Monty has murmured, pressing his forehead to Miller’s chest. “No one deserves that, soulmate or not.” And it was the biggest relief when Monty, even softer, said, “I understand why you were afraid.”

Since then they’d kissed, almost like exchanging secrets, and settled down once more.

Miller was so happy it should’ve been illegal.

He was in the state between sleep and wake when Monty shifted, causing him to open his eyes.

“Nate?” Monty whispered.

Miller’s eyes fell shut again and he let the power of his name, so soft, barely spoken, yet still so intense roll over him in waves. Bellamy and Clarke had been right. There were no words for it. There never would be. “Yeah?” he whispered back.

Monty leaned up and kissed Miller lightly. “Nothing. Just wanted to watch you shiver.”

Miller laughed and slipped his hand up the back of Monty’s shirt. “Two can play at that game, Monty,” he murmured. Miller wasn’t sure if it was his mind filling in the gaps, but it was as though he could feel the sparks that danced through Monty’s body. “Monty,” he said again, and Monty’s eyes snapped open.

“Yeah?”

Miller traced his fingers up Monty’s spine. “I’m really glad it’s you,” he rasped.

Monty nuzzled closer. “Me too, Nate,” he whispered back.

They fell asleep in one another’s arms.

* * *

In the morning, Monty dragged Miller out of bed way before Miller actually _wanted_ to get out of bed. He wanted to indulge for a bit, whisper Monty’s name to him before the sun had really risen, pull smiles from the man who owned a piece of his soul and let Monty do the same. For the first time in his life, Miller wanted to hear his name over and over again.

Bellamy and Clarke were already awake, sitting at the kitchen table with bowls of cereal and mugs of coffee. Wells and Raven must’ve gone home last night.

“Morning,” Monty called, dragging Miller behind him with a grin on his face.

“Morning,” Clarke murmured back, also clearly not thrilled about being awake before noon. It was the weekend, after all, and sleep was important. Miller could pretty much see the moment Clarke remembered the two of them were soulmates, however, because she turned in her seat with narrowed, curious eyes. “Sleep okay?”

“Mm-hm. Do you have Lucky Charms?”

“Top shelf,” Miller answered softly. He skipped the cereal for now and went straight for the coffee.

“Might just be, like, a soulmate thing,” Monty carried on as he reached the pantry, stretching up to grab the box he wanted. “Sleeping really well when you’re together. And being generally the happiest people to exist.”

Miller tried hiding his smile as he answered, “I think that’s just a me and you thing.”

Monty pointed at him. “Right you are, Nate.”

His name in Monty’s mouth this early in the morning felt like sunshine had been injected into his bloodstream.

“Man, I love that,” Bellamy said, leaning back in his seat. “Does this mean we can all call you Nate now that you’re not being stupidly secretive about your name?”

“No,” Monty and Miller answered at the same time.

Bellamy’s eyebrows shot to his forehead, and even Miller turned to look at Monty, unsure if he answered that way because he knew how Miller would feel or for a different reason altogether.

Monty looked a few shades too pink. “It makes it more special if I’m the only one,” he murmured before turning to pour his cereal into his bowl.

Miller grinned. For now, it was something for the two of them.

It wasn’t just about the way it made him feel when Monty said his name. It was about the way Monty said it: sure, proud, like it was something special, that made Miller want to keep his name from everyone else’s mouth for as long as he could.


End file.
